The Tenth Follower of the Ring
by Animagus1
Summary: Someone is stalking the Fellowship of the Ring...
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters except Isabelle and maybe some in the next few chapters  
  
  
  
  
Isabelle couldn't help laughing to herself quietly. It had been almost ridiculously easy to follow the Fellowship. They had been moving swiftly across the country that lay past Rivendell, but not fast enough to lose her. She was a fair distance behind them; hopefully they would not detect her presence until they were far enough from Rivendell that they would not send her back alone. Ever since she had overheard one of the hobbits talking to Lord Elrond in Rivendell, she had desired to join their quest. She wasn't entirely sure where they were going or what they were to do, but one thing she knew for certain was that she wanted to go with them. So she had gathered together some belongings and food supplies and waited. It was easy to find out when the Fellowship was planning to leave. In a community such as Rivendell news, even news that was supposed to be secret, travelled fast. Isabelle had simply waited an hour or so after they had departed, told Lord Elrond that she was going for a ride and left. They were not hard to follow. The Fellowship obviously did not expect trouble so near Rivendell and had made no determined effort to cover their tracks. It would not have been that difficult to follow them even if she had received no training, which she had. Growing up with elves had its advantages.  
  
Isabelle could use a sword as well as, or better, than any man. She could use a bow and arrow perfectly. She knew which plants were beneficial to healing and which were poisonous. She was more an elf than a human, except for one thing. She was not immortal. While the elves she had grown up with would remain unchanged, she herself would grow old and eventually die. It was not a thought Isabelle liked to dwell on. For now she was young and strong, and about to have the best adventure of her life. 


	2. Chapter Two

Aragorn drew Legolas aside from the others. He knew Legolas better than the others, and trusted his instincts. He spoke to him in elvish, not wanting to worry the others, who were sitting around the fire talking softly.  
"I think someone is following us," he whispered to Legolas. "For about the past three days."  
Legolas nodded. "I have noticed this too. I do not believe that the person behind us is a threat."  
"I agree. If it was intending to attack, it surely would have done so by now," Aragorn agreed. "What do you think we should do about it?"  
Legolas paused. "We should not tell the others. We should wait until we know for certain whether there is a threat or not before we tell them."  
"You're right Legolas. As usual!"  
As Aragorn and Legolas walked back to the fire laughing, the others looked up.   
  
Boromir did not look happy, but then that was not unusual these past days. He spoke less and less, and often walked behind the others. Aragorn suspected that it might have something to do with the Ring. He knew how it could grow on the minds of men, how it could tempt them with false promises of grandeur and power. From the start Boromir had wanted the ring. His desire to protect the city of Gondor had overruled his common sense, the sense that should be telling him the dangers of using the ring.  
  
"Where have you been?" Frodo asked Aragorn.  
"I needed to speak with Legolas about matters that have nothing to do with innocent hobbits, so do not poke your nose in business that you do not need to know about."  
"As you wish! I was only being polite, you know," Frodo grinned.  
"He knows," Legolas replied. "It has been a long day for us all."  
  
Frodo changed the subject. "Where are we headed tomorrow?  
"We must get as far towards Lothlorien as we can. There is a great change of attack between here and Lothlorien, as there is no protection from the elves," Aragorn told the Fellowship.  
"How long will it take?" Gimli asked.  
"Around five or six days, if we are lucky," Legolas told them. "We will be going over the mountain."  
"Why?" Gimli demanded. "It will be quicker to go under the mountain, through the mines of Moria. My cousin Bali will provide us with fresh supplies and guide us through the tunnels."  
"It will be safer to go over the mountain," Gandalf broke in. "When was the last time you visited the mines, Gimli?"  
"Many years ago," Gimli replied "but why will that make any difference?"  
"I have heard many rumours of dark things happening in the mines of Moria. Which are true I cannot tell, but I feel it would be safer to not take any risks. We will go over the mountain." Gandalf didn't bother to wait for Gimli's argument, but stumped off instead to the spring their camp was near.  
  
The Fellowship fell into a tense silence. Boromir hadn't raised his eyes from the fire since the discussion had begun and now glanced briefly at Frodo, and then returned his glance to the flames. 


	3. Chapter Three

Isabelle frowned. Her supplies were getting low. The Fellowship were taking longer then she had expected to reach the mountains. She would soon either have to go and find some food or reveal her presence. She reasoned that her best option was to reveal herself in a few days since, as they travelled during the day, she would have no time to collect further supplies.  
  
Two days passed. Isabelle would never have admitted it to anyone, but she was finding it tiring keeping up with the group ahead. They walked at such a pace that at times she had to walk closer behind them, and drop back when they stopped for the night, in case she lost them. She couldn't help but wonder what it was that made them so cautious and hasty. It surely couldn't be just a normal "adventure", they were too watchful for that. And if it was, Lord Elrond wouldn't have called a secret council and seemed so preoccupied after the Fellowship had left. They were up to something, she could tell.  
  
When twilight fell, and a fire was lit ahead, Isabelle stopped and put her pack on the ground underneath a tree. There was a faint glimmer of the sun left in the sky, hopefully enough to see some nuts and berries by. She also needed to find a stream to fill her water bottle. She drew her short sword out from the sheath that hung at her waist, and marked a tree so that she might find her belongings when she returned. She removed her water carrier and a small leather pouch from the pack and set out.  
  
As she knelt down at the shallow stream to fill the water bottle, Isabelle could feel the small hairs at the back of her neck rising. She felt that someone was behind her and quickly turned her head. No one was there. All was silent, except for the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze that curled tendrils of her hair around her cheeks. She brushed the strands away from her eyes and attached the lid to the filled bottle. As she rose to her feet she scanned the wooded area slowly, making sure no one was standing in the shadows. No one was. Isabelle shook her head. "Being by myself so much must be getting to me," she murmured to herself, and walked across to a large blackberry bush she had seen earlier. She placed the water on the ground and took the leather pouch from her pocket. She chose the ripest blackberries she could see until the bag was full, and then drew the drawstring top closed.  
  
When Isabelle reached the place where she had left her belongings she stopped dead, her previous fears of being watched reawakened. Her pack had been moved, of that she was sure. When she had left to go to the stream she had left it leaning against a tree, the buckles open, and now they were closed. A twig cracked behind her and she whirled round, her hand closed firmly around the grip on her sword. Once again, no one was in sight. Her grip relaxed and she sighed. "Not again. I'm going mad, I must be."  
  
"I'm sure you're not," came a voice from behind her. "There was someone watching you at the stream."  
  
"And I suppose it was you," Isabelle said. "Who are you? Come out where I can see you."  
  
A figure stepped out of the shadows. "I believe that seeing as I could kill you in seconds, I should have the right to ask questions first, don't you think?"  
  
Isabelle nodded, and backed away, hoping that the mysterious figure wouldn't notice and that she might have a chance to run.  
  
"There is no point in trying to run," the figure stated, as though reading her mind. "I could kill you even as you turn to flee. Come with me."  
  
"Where are you going to take me?" Isabelle demanded defiantly. "If you think I will follow you like some docile sheep, you are mistaken."  
  
"If you do not come willingly I shall have to take you by force." The man's voice did not rise above a low monotone, which somehow managed to make him sound more threatening than if he had shouted.  
  
Slowly and in silence Isabelle picked up her back and followed the man out of the small clearing, her heart feeling as though it had stopped, and butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She couldn't help but feel that the man would kill her before asking questions. She also knew that there was no point in calling for help, as the Fellowship were too far away to hear, especially if they were talking with each other. Besides the man would probably kill her before the sound had left her throat. 


	4. Chapter Four

As Isabelle followed the man through the forest she couldn't help but imagine what was to happen to her. Wild images stormed through her mind – being taken to Mordor, being tortured and beaten, being killed. Or what if the man just killed her straight away, instead of having to take her to the enemy's stronghold?   
  
Suddenly the man in front stopped and turned to face her. Isabelle couldn't make out his features; a dark hood shrouded his face. He spoke, in the same low monotone as before.  
"Place the bag on the ground. Hold your hands out."  
Isabelle complied quickly, and the man seemed to produce a length of rope from the air. He twisted it around her wrists and pushed her gently against the nearest tree. He fastened the end of the rope to a thick branch. Isabelle watched as he strode off in the opposite direction, towards the stream where she had filled her bottle. As he grew harder to see against the darkness of the trees she started to struggle with the knots binding her wrists. It was hopeless. The knots didn't seem to be getting any looser, in fact the opposite. It was as if the more she fought against them the tighter they became. Eventually she gave in and slumped down to the ground.  
  
Legolas pulled Aragorn aside. "I have found who was following us. It is a girl."  
  
"A girl?" Aragorn asked. "Where is she?"  
  
"I have bound her wrists and left her by a tree. She will not be able to escape." Legolas spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the others, who were preparing for the night's rest.  
  
Aragorn nodded. "Will you take me there? We need to question her, and judge whether she is a threat."  
  
"Of course," Legolas said. "Do you wish to go now?"  
  
"Yes. The sooner we get this over with the better."  
  
Isabelle squinted through the darkness. Was that a man walking through the trees? She could definitely see a darker shape against the shadows. It came closer; the figure was a man, not as tall as the person who had left her against the tree. Isabelle thought about whether she should call out and ask for his help, but decided against it. She watched as the man approached still closer. She still couldn't make out his features.  
  
He stopped in front of her.   
"I might have known," he sighed. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Aragorn!" she cried. "Don't just stand there! Can you just untie my wrists so can leave this place before the man who brought me here comes back?"  
  
Legolas jumped lightly from the branches of a nearby tree.  
  
"You know this girl Aragorn?" Legolas questioned.  
  
"She is my sister," he replied. 


	5. Chapter Five

"Your sister?" Legolas asked, shock audible in his voice. "I did not even know that you had any kin."  
  
Aragorn walked over to Isabelle, unbound her wrists and turned back around to speak to the elf. Isabelle stayed sitting against the tree, massaging the painful marks in her skin where the rope had dug in.  
  
After a brief exchange with Legolas, Aragorn frowned at Isabelle. Come, sister, I am waiting for an explanation. What are you doing here?"  
  
Isabelle smiled sheepishly at him. "I followed you from Rivendell. I wanted to come with you, but Lord Elrond said that I couldn't, but I decided to follow you anyway."  
  
"Isabelle!" Aragorn exclaimed. "What were you thinking of? There are many reasons Elrond refused to allow you to accompany us! And how could you so blatantly go against his wishes?"  
  
Isabelle looked defiant. "I wanted to have something interesting happen! And Arwen said…"  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes. "I might have known," he said resignedly, almost to himself.  
  
Legolas, who until this point had been silent, broke into the conversation. "Aragorn, we will have to discuss this on the way back to the others. It is getting late."  
  
Aragorn nodded wearily. "Yes. Legolas will you guide my sister to the others? I wish to be alone."  
  
"As you wish," Legolas replied. "Will you be long?"  
  
"No," Aragorn told him, and with a last frown at Isabelle walked off into the forest.  
  
Legolas walked over to the tree and extended a hand to Isabelle. She grasped his fingers and he swung her to her feet.   
"Will you accept my apologies, my lady?" he asked, gazing intently at her face.  
  
Isabelle smiled up at him. "Of course," she replied. "I would have done the same. I do not believe that I know your name?"  
  
"I am Legolas," he told her. "I dwell in Mirkwood. Are you so hidden away in Rivendell that no one knows of your presence?"  
  
Isabelle laughed. "Not at all! I am not known as Isabelle, except to my brother. When I first came to Rivendell, Lord Elrond gave me the name Serenia."  
  
"I have heard tales of the Lady Serenia, and how she surpasses even Lady Arwen in beauty."  
  
Isabelle laughed again. "Then the story-teller must have been blind. I am far from beautiful!"  
  
Shortly they reached the campsite. As the two entered the sphere of light cast by the fires strong flames Pippin looked up.  
"I say!" he exclaimed. "We have a guest!" At the hobbits words, the rest of the company lifted their gaze from their plates and stared at Isabelle.  
  
"Serenia!" Gandalf cried, as he stood up. "What are you doing here?" he asked.  
  
"It is a long story, Gandalf, and one which I have already told. Please, forgive me if I leave the retelling of it to Aragorn."  
  
"Of course child," Gandalf said. "Come, sit by the fire and let me introduce you to the others." 


	6. Chapter Six

".and these troublemakers here are Merry and Pippin," Gandalf continued. "You know Legolas already, so that only leaves-" "Me. I am Boromir." Isabelle's eyes moved to Boromir as he spoke and she smiled. He did not return the smile. After a few moments she dropped her gaze. It was as though he was trying to see inside her soul. Isabelle liked the rest of the company, but this man from Gondor made her uneasy.  
  
"Ah, Legolas. I see you have bought Serenia some refreshment." Gandalf paused while Isabelle gratefully accepted the plate from the elf. "I don't suppose you've been eating much?"  
  
Isabelle shook her head. "I didn't want to spend much time finding food in case I lost your trail." She looked away from the fire, at Legolas, who was standing at the edge of the small clearing looking into the trees.  
  
"Where's Strider?" Sam asked. "He's been gone awhile."  
  
"I know not," said Legolas. "He said that he would only be a short while."  
  
"Do you think that he will let me accompany you on the remainder of your journey, Gandalf?" Isabelle asked the wizard.  
  
Gandalf sighed. "To be absolutely honest, I don't know. He may, he may not. We can do nothing except wait for his return."  
  
Isabelle nodded. "Where shall I put the plate?"  
  
"Go and give it to Legolas. It his task tonight to clean the utensils."  
  
Isabelle rose from her cross-legged position on the ground and took the plate to the elf. As he took it from her hand, their fingers touched and she smiled up at him. "Would you like any help?" she asked.  
  
Legolas shook his head. "It is no trouble. Although if you wish to stay, please do."  
  
Isabelle smiled again. "I will. What was it like in Mirkwood?"  
  
Legolas was silent for a moment. "It was.peaceful. Sauron or Saruman did not trouble us until recently. Until the creature Sméagol was placed into our care. I was sent to Rivendell to tell Elrond that he had escaped. I was in Rivendell for many days, and yet I did not meet you there."  
  
"Maybe you met me, and do not recall the meeting," Isabelle said.  
  
"I would not forget such a meeting," Legolas said quietly, and then fell silent. While he washed the plate, Isabelle studied him. His hair betrayed the fact that he was not from Rivendell - elves there had dark hair and his was blonde. As she watched him, some strands of hair fell across his eyes, and she resisted an urge to brush them away. As if he sensed her eyes on his face, he looked up at her. Isabelle looked away, certain that her cheeks had flushed. Legolas looked at her for a minute. She was wearing traditional elvish travelling gear - loose trousers, high boots and a cloak, which seemed to change colour as she moved. Her hair was tied back with a leather thong. Left loose, it would be long.  
  
"I must get back to the others." her voice trailed off at the end of the sentence and she glanced briefly back at him before she moved away.  
  
Legolas had long since finished scouring and drying the single plate, yet he remained by the small pond for some time.  
  
It was late. The moon had set and all the Fellowship was sleeping, save Gandalf, who had the second watch. He was lost in his thoughts and half asleep when Aragorn returned. The man crept up quietly; he did not wish to wake anyone. As he came up behind Gandalf he laid a hand on the wizard's shoulder as to not startle him.  
  
"What am I to do, old friend?" he asked in a whisper. "My head tells me I should send her back to Rivendell, and yet my heart whispers that I should allow her to stay."  
  
Gandalf shook his head. "I cannot tell you what you should do, but I feel that she would be safer with Elrond than with us. Our quest is a dangerous one."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "You speak the truth. She will return to Rivendell upon the dawn. And yet I cannot send her alone. Someone will have to accompany her."  
  
"Yes," Gandalf agreed. "But let it be decided tomorrow. You will need rest. There are many leagues to cover."  
  
Isabelle opened her eyes. She had been woken by the whispered exchange between Gandalf and her brother, and had heard the whole conversation. So she was to return to Rivendell. It was not what she wanted, but Aragorn might still be persuaded otherwise. 


	7. Chapter Seven

"My decision is final! You will return to Rivendell." "Could I not go with you as far as Lothlórien? It would be just as safe there." Isabelle asked Aragorn in a persuading tone. "No Isabelle. I do not you to be with us when we attempt to climb Caradhras. And if the way is blocked and we have to pass through Moria.it is not a place for you." Isabelle nodded silently. "As you wish," she said in a voice that betrayed none of the anger she felt for her brother. She was better able to take care of herself than the halflings! Aragorn sighed. "You have caused much trouble. Why could you have not remained in Rivendell?" Isabelle smiled brightly at him in answer, and he shook his head and laughed. "What am I to do with you?"  
  
Legolas came up behind Aragorn and stood in silence until the man turned. "Who will escort her?" the elf asked quietly. "She cannot return by herself, the roads are being watched and orcs are everywhere." "I had not thought of it," Aragorn confessed. "We can spare no one." "I will go," Legolas stated. "You need me least of all. I can rejoin the company in Lothlórien." Aragorn nodded. "You are right, as ever, my friend. Are you sure you know what you are undertaking? My sister can be tiresome at times!"  
  
Legolas shouldered his pack and motioned for Isabelle to do the same. They had been walking through the forest for some hours and had stopped for some lembas and water. Legolas looked up in the sky. There were only a few hours of light remaining, and with many miles remaining to the safety of Rivendell, he wanted to cover as much ground as possible. They walked in a comfortable silence, neither feeling the need for conversation. Occasionally Isabelle would glance across at the profile of the elf, and Legolas would sometimes realize that he was watching her. Once or twice their eyes met, and Isabelle would smile and look quickly away, at some trees, or a distant bird.  
  
Two days passed uneventfully. Isabelle had found herself telling the elf of her restlessness in Rivendell, and he in turn told the girl things about himself he had never thought to tell anyone. In the days that had passed since their first meeting they had come to know each other well, and to both it seemed as though they had always known the other.  
  
It happened when neither of them expected it. The night was drawing to a close, and the faintest tint of colour could be seen lining the eastern sky when the orcs attacked. There were not many of them - fifteen at the most, but they had the advantage of surprise. Before they had entered the area where Legolas and Isabelle had spent the night, four had fallen to the ground, with arrows protruding from their necks. Even as he fired arrows at the creatures, Legolas was shouting to Isabelle, warning her to be on her guard and to have her sword at the ready. As the orcs came closer, he slung his bow onto his back and drew one of the slender knives he kept for fighting at close range. His expression was one of distaste. He preferred to kill his enemies at a distance rather than have their breath on his face and their blood staining his hands. However the elf fought well - the need for skill with basic weapons was one that he had learnt at a young age, and he had been taught well. When he glanced over at Isabelle, she too was holding her own, and there were two fallen orcs at her feet. Legolas turned his attention back to his own fight, and swiftly dealt with the remaining creatures. As he plunged the dagger into the chest of the last orc, he heard a cry from behind me. He turned quickly, and saw that an orc had Isabelle pressed up against a tree with her sword a metre in front. He sank his blade into the orc's back and pulled it out, wiping the blood from the steel on his cloak. He pushed the body of the orc away from Isabelle and it dropped to the ground in a heap. Legolas kicked it away and took the girl by her shoulders. "Are you alright?" he asked. She nodded, her face pale. She had a smear of blood across her forehead and Legolas wiped it away, realising as he did so that it was hers. "Are you sure you are well?" he asked again, and this time she spoke. "I am fine, thank you," she whispered. "Are you?" Legolas smiled to reassure her. "I am well. Would you like to rest here for a time, or should we continue?" Isabelle nodded at the second option. "I should like to continue, but may we stop at a stream? I would like to wash away the blood."  
  
Isabelle stood alone in a small brook, up to her waist in cold, clear water. She was dressed, but still Legolas had withdrawn to a polite distance, murmuring something about finding some plants that were particular to this part of the woods. She was glad to be alone; she needed time to recover from the shock of the battle. She lifted her undershirt, wincing as the cloth touched the wound beneath. She had not told Legolas, but she had been injured by an orc, and on inspection, the wound proved to be serious. There was no longer any blood, but the gash was open and painful. As she washed away the dried blood, Isabelle felt faint and dizzy, and grabbed at a tree trunk in order to steady herself. As the feeling subsided, she let go, and tore a long strip of cotton from her shirt, wrapping it tightly around her waist. She drew in her breath at the pain, but at least it would prevent the cut from bleeding as much. "Isabelle, are you ready? I don't wish to rush you, but we have far to travel before nightfall." Legolas called from a distant spot amongst the trees, and Isabelle hurriedly dropped her shirt, not wishing the elf to see the bandage. She didn't want him to find out that she had been hurt, didn't want him to think that she was incapable of taking care of herself. Had she not caught up with the Fellowship by herself? She stepped out of the water gingerly as the bank was steep and slippery and unhooked her cloak from a convenient branch. As she stretched in order to pick her pack up from the ground, the wound on her side split slightly, and her hand instinctively went to the site of the pain. She was relieved to see that no blood had soaked through the makeshift dressing, but supposed that it would take a while for that to happen. Ignoring the ache of her side, she swung her pack onto her shoulder, and walked briskly to where Legolas was standing, waiting for her to catch up.  
  
Legolas had noticed the way in which Isabelle was walking, and the way in which her hand went to her ribs at times, but did not mention anything. As they walked through the forest, she was mostly silent, answering in monosyllables to whatever Legolas said to her. The elf noticed that her face was flushed, and that she was sweating, even though the day was cool, but supposed that she was unused to such strenuous exercise, and did not mention anything to her. He often found himself forgetting that she was a mortal girl, and he thought that she couldn't have been much more than twenty years or so. "How old are you, Isabelle? It is surprising that Aragorn had never mentioned." The elf's voice trailed off, as he turned towards where she had been walking, and realised that she was no longer there. He turned around, and saw her sitting on the grass, leaning against a rock. Legolas narrowed his eyes against the sun, and gazing towards her prone figure, thought that he could see a stain of red blooming on her cloak. He ran towards her, his light feet almost flying over the ground. He fell to his knees beside her, and lifted away the girl's cloak. He cursed under his breath as he saw that the mark was indeed blood, and fresh. The elf gently lifted her shirt and unwound the bandage from her waist. He cursed once more as he saw the wound, and realised that she must have suffered it while they were fighting the orcs. Legolas touched her forehead, and drew his hand back at the warmth of it. He was almost certain that she was suffering from a fever, and was angry with himself for not having realised the fact earlier. He slid his arms underneath her and picked her up in an easy movement, which belied the slenderness of his build. After he laid her flat on the ground, he took a closer look at her injury. "Elbereth." he whispered, before standing and turning back the way they had come.  
  
Isabelle awoke from fevered dreams in which she was chased by a faceless demon, to find that she was lying in a bower of leaves that had been twisted in order to provide shelter from the wind and rain. She tried to sit up, but cool hands on her shoulders pushed her back down. "Legolas?" she murmured softly. "Hush," he whispered. "I am here. Can you remember what happened?" "A little," she replied. "I remember being.being struck with a sword, and the stream, and then I felt dizzy.what is wrong with me, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and smiled at her. "You were dizzy from blood loss, and you have a slight fever which can't have helped matters. I need to go and find some water, will you be alright here?" "I will be fine," Isabelle told him. "Just don't be long?" Legolas nodded. "I will return as swiftly as possible. You should rest."  
  
Once away from the clearing, Legolas allowed the mask of cheerfulness to fall from his face. He was fairly certain that Isabelle had been wounded with a poisoned orc blade. He had some ways in which he could slow down the process, but if he could not get her to someone who had healing knowledge.Legolas refused to admit that it was likely she would die, but he knew that he had to get her to either Elrond or to Aragorn as quickly as possible. Rivendell was at least ten days away yet, possibly more. He didn't know where the Fellowship were precisely, but he reasoned that to reach Lothlorien would take almost six days, and he would be sure to meet them there. However, he did not think that it would be possible for Isabelle to walk far, and as for the obstacle of Caradhras.he resolved to tackle that problem when it came. For now his main priority was to find some plants that would cause the toxins in Isabelle's body to slow in their destructiveness, so that she would have as good a chance as possible to get to her brother. 


End file.
